The easiest way to handle this would be to send the can-raks. Of course, the slaves and guards would both scatter, making it more difficult to contain the situation. So, we decided the four of us would walk straight up to them, along with two can-raks to show we controlled the beasts, and hope to intimidate without causing a full-blown panic. The balance of our group, yet unnoticed, would remain hidden in the fields.
The guards had assessed the danger of the can-raks already and were forcing the slaves back onto the rolling platforms. The drooves hitched to those platforms were jumpy. They smelled the danger and their drivers had trouble controlling them. Our casual approach through the high grain shifted everyone’s attention to us. We emerged onto the road a short distance in front of the convoy.
The Creet soldiers, with their grottis symbols visible on their red-trimmed vests, stood out from the rest. They were wary and had drawn their swords. I counted about twenty. At a reasonable hailing distance, I allowed Izzy to state our purpose.
“Creetans,” she addressed them. “Throw down your arms. This is a great day for you, as we have blessed you with the privilege of meeting in person your greatest enemies. I am Izzy, Blade of Sorrow. This is my fellow Blade, Lillatta. The blond terror you see before you is Sanyel, the one and only Disrupter. The boy? He, I’m afraid, is of no consequence.”
Izzy glanced over at Javen and smiled her sweetest smile, getting an “I’ll get you for that” smile in return.
“And, we have can-raks,” she finished.
The Creet soldiers listened in dumfounded silence. The slaves showed equal confusion. I could just imagine the thoughts racing through the guards’ minds—well, inching perhaps, as these were Spood, after all. They had just heard a crazy, spike-haired girl with tattoos and a missing arm tell them to lay down their weapons. She and the rest of her group were without question slaves, but they were not acting as proper slaves should. Accompanying them were a couple of those green monsters, those yellow-eyed can-raks which, to their surprise, were not eating them. In addition, the speaker claimed to be of the feared trio prophecy stated one day would come. How to respond?
“Surrender your weapons and kneel to your masters,” the imperious head Creet commanded.
Not the response for which I had hoped. I guessed he had concluded our mental stability was in question, though the can-raks must have puzzled him. He had to wonder what control crazy people could possibly have over the wild beasts.
Izzy’s reply to the surrender demand was short and terse.
“No.”
At a voice command to the can-raks and a signal from me, we advanced. The Creet guards shifted in place, their tension rising. The head Creet did not appear to be a rash man, and seemed to be mulling over what to do next. Then, that assumption evaporated, as with a celerity I had not anticipated, the Creet lifted and snapped his swok toward Izzy. Why he initiated that move was beyond me. It seemed pathetic, not to mention irrational.
Within moments, the man’s confident face morphed into one of astonishment. For as the man's leather unfurled to cut the nose-ringed nuisance, a blade lifted from the girl's scabbard. In a fraction of a blink, it caught the whipping cord around its sharp metal form. A persuasive yank wrenched the swok from the Creet’s hand and it now lay at Izzy’s feet.
“Is that the best you can do?” Izzy asked.
The head Creet grimaced, baffled and angry over his failed effort. It was easy to recognize the response of one never challenged by inferiors before. And although I’ve always found it endlessly amusing to bait the arrogant, playtime was over.
“Remove your weapons and drop them to the ground!” I ordered. “The can-raks have not eaten in a while, and I will feed you to them if you do not comply. Do it now!”
The Creet commander’s subordinates did not wait for his instruction. They stripped off their arms before he could say a word. He growled an empty threat at them before reluctantly following suit. I told the grumbling guards to march back toward the city, and they had no choice but to obey.
When they were well on their way, a hesitant young man approached me. The slaves we had freed from the city had come over to join us and the young man had been going around to each, searching for someone. He now faced me, appearing anxious, so I allowed him to ease into whatever it was he wished to convey.
“You are going back to the city?” he inquired with an eager and expectant look.
I responded with a negative shake of my head. The man reacted with disbelief.
“But what of the other slaves? You cannot leave them!”
“What other slaves?” I was genuinely puzzled.
“There are thousands more still in the city. Did you not know this?”
I had to admit I did not. Yet the news should not have surprised me. Of course there were more. We had freed barely three hundred, and that was nothing. The Spood needed thousands to handle all the daily tasks they refused to do themselves. Thousands needed to suffer to save them from getting calluses on their murderous hands.
“Where were these slaves housed?” I asked the man. “I thought the street off the plaza was the only place they were quartered.”
“No, no, that’s not true. There are slaves in buildings on several other streets. My family is in one.”
The man’s anguish was heartrending.
“But, you did not come from the city to work these fields,” I observed.
“No, that is true. The Spood now keep me in a sperza not far from here. They took me from the city not more than a week ago to work the fields. My wife, children, and I were in the same cell in the city. They are still there. I am certain of it.”
As much as I wanted to help this man, I knew I would not. I would not go back into Grell; it was too dangerous. I had been pushing my luck for a long while and felt a return would be foolhardy. I could not ask my friends to take that risk, even though I was certain they would not hesitate.
“I am sorry, there is nothing I can do,” I told the man.
His stricken face was hard to bear. I turned away, wanting to distance myself and hide the welling emotions I had no wish to expose.
“Send the can-raks,” a voice said. It was Javen’s. He had been listening to our conversation.
I turned to him and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Instruct the can-raks to follow this man into the city, find his family and protect them. We do not need them now. We have weapons and numbers.”
It was true. We could most likely handle any of the smaller forces we might encounter in the countryside. However, I had promised myself I would free the great beasts. To send them back into the fire was disturbing to me. I would be abandoning them.
Lillatta and Izzy joined us as I pondered what to do. I informed them of the situation and Lillatta was adamant about what course to take.
“This is an opportunity. We have a chance to bring total disruption to the Spood way of life. You are the Disrupter, aren’t you? Send the can-raks. Tell them to kill anyone who attacks them or who attacks the defenseless. Let two of them accompany this man to free his family. And when that’s done, he can use those two to help free the other slaves.”
As she spoke those last words, she gave the young man a penetrating, inquiring look. His eager nod indicated he was agreeable to take on the challenge.
“Tell the other can-raks to hunt down all Spood leaders in the city who have evil in their hearts, and for good measure, anyone who assists them. They must kill them, all they can find. I sense a can-rak can sniff such a person out if instructed to do so—do you agree?”
“I do,” I responded. “I feel they have the ability to accomplish whatever is asked of them.”
“If you eliminate those who are evil, and those who support them, then nothing remains to harm you,” Lillatta continued. “I would guess there are going to be a lot of dead priests and Creet soldiers, and who knows how many others, but can we allo
w them to continue to exist? They would come after us again and this nightmare would remain.”
Lillatta’s eyes turned icy, her face muscles tight and hard.
“And besides, I want vengeance. I want them to pay for what they did. They came into our land, uninvited, and killed my Kalor. They must pay for that!”
Lillatta sought retribution and I agreed with the sentiment. The Spood were a cancer. And the can-raks were a weapon, unlike anything ever seen. Let the beasts rip out the cancer. Let them cure the sickness responsible for the darkness emanating from this corner of the world.
We decided. The man would go with the can-raks and disruption would follow. I told the beasts to do what Lillatta had recommended, and in addition instructed them to feed on animals they found, not the bodies of humans killed. I felt the gruesome sight of ravenous creatures chewing on human corpses would only exacerbate an already horrific situation. I also commanded the two can-raks that were to accompany the young man to follow his orders until all the slaves were free and safe. Then, they could join the others in the grisly work of seeking the evil ones. I realized that some of those people the beasts sought might escape by finding clever hiding places or by fleeing the city, so I told the can-raks to keep the pressure on for a two-month stay, and to expand their search to outside the city limits as well. After the two months, they could find the main gate and freedom. I would somehow make sure the gate remained permanently open, for them and all others wishing to escape.
Word got around of the young man’s mission to free his family and several others with loved ones still in captivity volunteered to go along. We supplied the brave men with weaponry and wished them well.
When the party of men and beasts were out of sight, we readied ourselves to head to the north wall and the panel that awaited opening. The new batch of freed slaves numbered around fifty, including several children. I hoped the additional bodies would not increase our odds of discovery.
With a spear lifted from a dead Creet back at the city, I began idly whacking at stalks of grain beside the road. I was waiting for others to unhitch the drooves from the rolling platforms, as we were taking the ten animals with us.
I heard something behind me. As I turned, the thought that Ra-ta was again playing games refreshed itself in my mind. For charging down the road, from the west, was a mounted Creet company. A thundering pack of drooves barreled down on us. Safely riding in the middle of the created dust storm was none other than the high priest, Smerkas.
I stood there for a moment, confused. Why was Smerkas coming from that direction and not from the city?
As the alarm went up, we scattered into the fields. The Creet forces had certainly spotted us. Our only hope was to stay low and vanish into the high grain. I ran as swiftly as I could through the dense stalks, looking back occasionally to see what was happening. The grain was chin high, so my sightline was clear.
The mounted troops arrived quickly, trapping slaves still on the road. I watched the blades rise and descend. Escaped slaves could expect no mercy. The senseless slaughter angered me, as these slaves had committed no crime except for wanting to be free. I changed direction. I began walking toward the Creet carnage. I would go to them, take the fight to them. I was tired of running.
If Izzy, Lillatta, or Javen saw me, that was fine. They could join with me or not; it was up to them. Ra-ta could help me or simply watch, but I didn’t care about that, either. I was done, done putting up with this Spood brutality. If I died, so be it.
I stepped out of the grain and onto the road. My spear rested in my left hand and I carried my rik-ta tucked into a sheath at my side. I shouted a challenge and drooves wheeled to face the sound. Before me were about fifty armed and mounted men.
“I WANT SMERKAS,” I yelled.
The Creet nearest me snarled something unintelligible and then kicked his droove into a charge. I saw the malicious grin on his face as he bore down, with his spear lowered to skewer me. I had not fought anyone aboard an animal before, but how hard could it be? He came in, confident, and as his lance thrust forward I spun my spear haft upward and sent his weapon flying. The astonished rider whizzed by, turned his steed, and swiftly made his way back, his sword unsheathed and raised high.
He screamed obscenities as he came in for the kill. I unsheathed my rik-ta and whipped it toward the rider in one smooth motion. I watched it spin, once over, and then lodge itself with a solid thunk in the rider’s chest. The droove kept coming, now riderless, and sped past me back toward the company. I retrieved my knife and wiped it clean on the dead Creet’s vest.
I began walking toward the Creet riders, stopping only when within easy speaking range.
I again issued my challenge.
“I said I want Smerkas. Send the coward forward.”
I heard it then, the talk.
“It’s her! The Disrupter! I saw her in the plaza. She was supposed to be sacrificed to Gor-jar, and yet she is here!”
A murmur of fear rippled through the company. I just had to take advantage.
“That is correct,” I affirmed. “I am the Disrupter. Smerkas tried to sacrifice me to Gor-jar, but Gor-jar was no match for me.”
I paused for effect and then stuck in the knife.
“I killed Gor-jar. Gor-jar is dead.”
Shouts fearful and disbelieving rang through the Creet forces. Smerkas then rode forward from the inner ranks where he had been hiding.
“LIAR!” he screeched, and the ranks grew quiet.
His sweat-soaked, balding head shone in the sunlight, and though I sensed the doubt in his voice, he was still a true believer.
“You could not have killed Gor-jar. He is immortal.”
Smerkas looked uncertain despite his words, but then his face brightened as if from a sudden revelation, as if enlightenment had unexpectedly come, timely and divinely delivered.
“I have seen Gor-jar, so I know he is impossible to kill. He purposely leaves this world on occasion, so perhaps you mistook that for death. You may also think you escaped from him, but it was not your doing.” Smerkas then smiled and now confident in his truth said, “Our magnanimous god let you go free.”
The high priest waved his jeweled scepter in a grand arc and then directed his words to the company. “It is the divine mercy of Gor-jar that he let her live.”
Smerkas' persuasive words assuaged the Creet soldiers’ fears. Many now affirmed their belief that the priest spoke the truth, that their god still lived and the blond demon had lied to them. An easily swayed bunch, these Creet. It was my turn to persuade.
“Do you really believe Gor-jar would just let me go? I am the Disrupter. Would he not want his can-raks to tear me apart and crush my bones? The reason they did not is that I killed their master, so now they serve me. At this very moment, by my instruction, ten can-raks are ripping the hearts from your fellow citizens in Grell. Only the evil ones and those who do their bidding, of course. I would not go back there if I were you, if, by chance, you happen to be one of the two types I just mentioned. Of course, that means Smerkas certainly can’t return.”
I saw the riders again plunged into doubt, but the high priest had another play to make. This one was not subtle.
“It is a story to tell gullible children,” Smerkas said. With a sly, triumphant expression, he told his men, “She controls no can-raks. Gor-jar lives, and he has granted you his highest honor. He has chosen you to kill the Disrupter. He is offering the glory to you. Kill her!”
With that, my decision to stand alone against a large, well-armed contingent of Creet soldiers revealed itself as one of the dumber things I have recently done. I turned to race back into the cover of the fields. Before I reached them, from out of those stalks emerged the most unlikely of rescuers. A stampeding horde of crazed creatures materialized out of the high grain. Dozens of drooves began cutting in front of the Creet soldiers about to give chase, forcing
them farther back down the road.
One of the beasts had a rider. I strained to see who it was. Oh my god! Brilna?
The skinny little thing was hanging onto the droove’s neck for dear life, and I saw she had no reins with which to control it. Despite the dire nature of the situation, the hilarity of the sight was immeasurable. Brave, ridiculous, wonderful Brilna. Come to save the day.
As I might have expected, her uncontrollable mount now headed directly into danger, right for Smerkas, who had faded back deep within the Creet center. That center, however, was falling apart. Numerous Creet soldiers lay on the ground, dumped by rearing animals rattled by the droove invaders. From out of the fields where they had been hiding, armed slaves, recognizing an opportunity, now swarmed in for the kill.
As I absorbed all those peripheral events, my concentration remained focused on Brilna, who careened wildly on top of her droove as it sped on course toward Smerkas. The armed priest was aware of her approach, and though the distance was great I caught the glint of metal as Smerkas lifted his sword.
Brilna’s beast did not waver. Intersection with the blue-robed priest was moments away, so action was imperative. I weighed my rik-ta in my hand. The distance was absurd. No one could throw an object that far and the Creet company still retreated from my position. I remembered the starfen, years ago, pinned to a tree by an improbable throw. I remembered Semral in the forest, and the pinpoint toss to the center of a tree circle that had left the great hunter in awe.
I planted a kiss on the handle of the knife and whispered, “Fly true.” I reared back and let the blade go. With the strength and eye of Ra-ta, the mighty sun god, the rik-ta shot from my hand. It flew straight, never deviating from its path, never doubting its destination. Brilna was there as the high priest’s stirka halted in mid-strike, as it suspended its downward arc and slid from his lifeless hand. The haft of a knife I had gripped but moments before now protruded from his chest. Then, Smerkas was gone, slipped from his mount, trampled into the dust.
The Creet force, in a matter of moments, no longer existed, wiped out, massacred. Who could have stopped it, persuaded against the slaughter with so many damaged souls crying for vengeance? I found Smerkas’ mangled body among the dead and retrieved my knife. A bejeweled scepter lay undamaged nearby. I picked it up, marveling at the glittering facets of the baubles encircling the shaft. Such vanity. Beautiful jewels, no matter what number, could never mask the ugliness of their owner’s soul.
Brilna’s droove finally allowed her to dismount and she came up to me. We greeted each other like long lost sisters. I cried as I hugged her. The girl had a way of growing on you. I saw her eyeing the scepter with keen interest, so I handed it to her.
“It’s yours,” I said.
By her excited reaction, you would have thought I had handed her Ra-ta’s throne.
Izzy, Javen, and Lillatta appeared. Brilna and Izzy hugged and engaged in a second joyful reunion dance. I introduced Brilna to the others, and then we set about gathering up the new bounty of arms acquired. I was curious to know what the others had been doing while I confronted Smerkas—alone. In addition, how had Brilna managed to round up this pack of drooves in the middle of nowhere?
“So, where were you three?” I asked. “Were you hiding in the fields as I took on the entire Creet army?”
“Hiding? Are you serious?” replied Izzy with mock indignation. “Of course we were hiding. Did you not see the soldiers in the road? They were huge and scary.”
“And did you not see the shiny, sharp objects they carried,” added Lillatta, “all pointy and such?”
“I was coming to rescue you,” insisted Javen, “but saw a ketter hopping by and chased it, instead. Good food is hard to come by, and you wouldn’t want me to pass up a decent meal, would you?”
Brilna had that look. She did not catch the lighthearted intent and seemed shocked the others would say and think such things. I told her they were joking. Brilna stared at me for a long time, and then managed an awkward titter. Her laugh was that of one who doesn’t know what she’s laughing at, but feels an obligation to pretend she does. The others then informed me that they would have helped me in my battle with the Creet, but thought I was doing just fine without them. They were about to assist when Brilna charged in on her mount.
“So, Brilna, how is it you were out here riding drooves?” I asked. “I thought your plan was to wait at the wall to open the sliding doors for us?”
I smiled in a way I was sure would indicate to her I was teasing.
Her stricken face made me sorry I had gone that route.
“Oh, Sanyel, I am so sorry I didn’t stay. I was so hungry. I had to find something to eat.”
She stopped and looked meekly down, no doubt expecting a tongue-lashing. I felt awful. She had taken my quip as an accusation, which I had not intended.
“I was only joking,” I said to soothe her. “I was pleased you found the drooves and saved me from the soldiers. You did the right thing.”
Brilna’s child-like joy returned and I felt relief. I asked her how she had come into possession of the drooves.
She reiterated that she had been hungry, and from the fortress parapet noticed a sperza some distance away to the west. She came down from the heights last night and walked through the darkness to find it. She hid in the trees near a droove stable, but didn’t know how to proceed. Then, someone exited a house, walked to the stable, and began tossing food to the drooves. When called back into the house, he left the stable fence open and the food behind.
“I ran over and grabbed the food off the fence rail before the drooves could get to it,” Brilna said. “It was a loaf made out of grain. I’ve had something like it before. We bake the same kind of loaves in my tribe. As I ran away with the food, the drooves started following me. I tried to shoo them off, but they wouldn’t leave. They followed me all the way to the wall door.
“I went back in and up the stairway, and when morning came I saw your group out on the road. I wasn’t sure who you were, but you were coming this way, so I felt it had to be Izzy returning.”
Brilna paused, eyes wide, and in a fearful tone said, “I saw all the can-raks . . . I was so afraid.”
Brilna stopped, and for a moment I thought her brain had frozen. But then she came out of it and cheerily asked, “How did you keep them from eating you?”
I explained my power over the green beasts and let Brilna marvel at the extraordinary disclosure. I then coaxed her back to finishing her story, for the sooner she finished, the sooner we could depart this still perilous location.
“I was going to wait for you, but then I spotted that Creet company,” Brilna went on. “I knew your group could not see them, so I wanted to warn you. The drooves were still outside the wall, so I jumped aboard a kneeling one, hoping it would get me to you faster. I must have frightened the others, because they all leaped up and started running. For some reason they ran straight toward you, and I was just trying to keep up and not fall off the droove.”
This type of improbable adventure could only happen to Brilna. I could not help marveling at how Ra-ta watched over her. Or was it just her? We had all had such amazing escapes from impossible situations. I thought of the Spood prophecy. It told of the Disrupter, the Blades of Sorrow, and two unnamed assistants. Javen and Brilna? It had to be them. Was Ra-ta protecting us because we were the sun god's chosen instruments to save the world from Spood domination?
It seemed a bit of a stretch, but I could think of no other reason.
Izzy interrupted my musings. It was time to go. We had rounded up the Creet drooves and those “brought” to us by Brilna. We now possessed weapons, along with food and water we found in the Creet droove packs. Those of us who didn’t have a droove would take the wall panel and stairway to the fortress top, and then march down to the main gate from there. We felt those with drooves could safely risk taki
ng the main road, for that group had more than adequate arms with which to defend themselves. They would pass through sperzas, but we doubted the small communities contained any sizable Creet presence.
We left it up to individuals to decide who wanted to take which path. I chose to walk the wall. I wanted to see firsthand the miraculous views Izzy had witnessed from up there. Izzy and Brilna would stay with the droove party, while Lillatta and Javen decided to join me up on the wall.
We made good time and arrived at the wall as Kaynar’s fluffiest clouds began teasing Ra-ta in a game of sky control. I saw by the clouds’ indolent nature that Kaynar was not serious and only intended playful harassment. The clouds’ languid shadows flowed across us, interrupted on occasion by a blast of Ra-ta’s beams.
Having gotten Izzy’s finger ring from Brilna earlier, I waved the orange-colored metal across the eye and marveled at the instant movement of the panel. I examined the doorway, but could not discern the mechanism that caused the sliding motion. We had to duck beneath the top ledge of the low doorway and jump down a short distance into the cubicle behind it. As each entered, that person then ascended the steps, allowing the next few to enter. I noticed the door stayed open as long as something was in the line of its closing path, so I made sure someone kept a hand across it.
The stairs showed no sign of wear. I examined them, trying to determine how something so solid in appearance could possibly move, as Izzy had insisted one did. I saw nothing but an intact stone structure. The inside walls, much like the outside, also had an unusual degree of freshness to them, as if never used. The elements had deposited some debris, but otherwise seemed to have had little or no wearing effect, and yet I suspected the fortress was ancient. Even the nature of the material seemed odd, not truly stone. I saw no flaking or cracking, just smooth surfaces with flawless seams.
Up top, the majestic, panoramic view from the exquisite battlements stole my breath. Izzy was right. The gods themselves must have built this extraordinary fortress. From the north parapet, multiple shades of green—hills, forests, and plains—stretched out until melding into an ethereal mist. Far below, in the fertile fields, tiny slaves still toiled beneath the sting of the swok and the broiling sun. That would soon change, I vowed. To the far south, beyond the thin, distant fortress wall, lay that endless water, heaving like the chest of a sleeping giant.
A warm and insistent wind made the folds of my gray frock billow and flutter. I could stay up here forever, breathing in the intoxicating air, feeling that empowerment that comes from standing on the summit of creation. However, practical matters don’t allow physical beings to linger long in mystical reverie. My journey did not end here; this was not my destination. My place lay beyond the hills, where a circle of mountains stabbed the sky and a mighty river split the land. I turned to the west, toward the main gate. Far from here, my people cried for freedom. I would go to them. I was returning home.
**
~~TWENTY-THREE~~